It's Imminent
by Naria Lacour de Fanel
Summary: There is something afoot in Undertaker's shop when Grell awakens to find Rip Van Winkle has come to visit. PWP.


Title: It's Imminent

Author: Naria Lacour de Fanel

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji/Hellsing Xover

Paring: Undertaker/Grell/Rip

Warnings: Crack and smut. PWP.

This was inspired by and is dedicated to dA's Digimitsu! Seriously, this was a direct interpretation of one of her drawings. A SEXY DRAWING. *PURRRRR*

* * *

The redhead stretched and yawned lazily as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Completely forgetting where he was, he sat up quickly and cracked his head on the wooden coffin lid above him. He frowned as he rubbed the sore spot and pushed the lid open. Really, they may be death gods, but that didn't mean they had to immerse themselves in death _all_ the time. Though, Grell did think it was rather sweet that his lover had gone to the trouble to design and build a casket large enough for the both of them. The traditional single occupancy style had been far too cramped and uncomfortable for their various "activities". It helped that the red satin lining and deep burgundy cherry wood certainly appealed to his sense of taste. This was a much better alternative, though it was sometimes inconvenient as he still had the habit of thinking he slept in a regular bed. Ah, well...

Grell finally sat up and stretched fully, unsurprised that his lover had already gotten up for the day. The scarlet reaper did have a bad habit of sleeping until dusk, but since the mortician did have a business to run in the human world he was expected to be active during the day so Grell often woke up alone. Since it was likely near closing time, he knew he could see his lover soon enough.

He padded over to the closet and grabbed his red jacket and buttoned only one button at the waist for a modicum of decency. He wouldn't bother getting completely dressed since he knew there would be no customers at this hour, but his sensitive skin did not like the constant chill of the shop, and though he still wore it at the crooks of his arms, it at least protected his important bits from unwelcome drafts. As he headed down the hallway he heard Undertaker's familiar rumbles of agreement and another recognizable voice, this one quite jubilant and peppy. They were having a conversation of sorts, though mostly in babbling German Grell didn't care to translate so soon after waking.

The guest was one Rip Van Winkle. A vampiric friend that had latched herself onto Grell one day after a particularly gory slaughter fest. The rest, as it is often said, is history. Rip was just as blood crazy as the redhead, and Grell actually quite liked her company, despite her flirting overtones and unpredictable behavior. Undertaker had taken a liking to her as well as she often provided him with highly amusing anecdotes. Grell suspected the elder often encouraged her lecherous manners, and he wasn't sure if he minded or not. He was quite flattered to have people dote on him and appreciate his beauty.

Grell wandered into the room in time to hear Rip say:

"...Ja! Beiherhund das oder die flipperwaldt gersput!"*

And explosive, near violent, cackling laughter from the mortician instantly followed.

"Well, I'm glad I woke up on my own rather than being woken up by that." Grell sighed as he watched a breathless Undertaker roll and twitch on the ground in uncontrollable laughter.

"Guttentag, mein rote tod!**" came the chipper voice of Rip. "You look-" She stopped.

Grell raised an eyebrow at her sudden pause.

"What?" he asked. She stared at him agape.

"Ah...Nothing. Nothing at all," she said, obviously bewildered. Grell shrugged dismissively and made his way towards the small stove in the corner to start the kettle. She was, of course, rendered speechless by the alluring sight of the still sleep tousled siren bedecked in only his coat. All that lovely flesh was exposed to her delight, and yet the coat fell in just the right places to tease accordingly.

Rip toed the cackling heap on the floor to get his attention. The mortician was able to control his laughing long enough to look up to her. She motioned with her eyes towards the redhead, and he followed her motion to share the truly attention grabbing sight of Grell. Said redhead was busying himself preparing tea. They both watched in rapt fascination as he stood on tiptoe in order to reach something in a high up cabinet, his beloved jacket giving tantalizing flashes of pale skin as he made small jumps to reach his desired jar of tea leaves. He gave one last little jump of victory as he set the jar upon the table. Obviously satisfied with his selection, he went about retrieving beakers and the kettle from the cabinet beneath. Bending over in his search, leaving his rear high in the air, his action pulled the coat to a sinful length that showed every inch of his shapely legs and gave a teasing suggestion of his delectable posterior just beneath the coat's hem.

The vampire and the mortician looked back at each other at the same moment, twin lecherous grins curling their lips.

Unaware of the looming conspiracy, Grell went about making his tea. Once it was brewed to perfection and he had beaker in hand, he perched himself upon one of the caskets, drawing his knees up under himself in a kneeling position to keep his poor feet off the cold floor. He set his beaker down and sighed as he made himself comfortable fluffing out his hair and rearranging the coat to give himself slightly more warmth. Turning to reach for his tea, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a slight tug on the back of his hair and a weight settle on the small of his back. Curious, he tried to turn to see who was pulling on his hair and only caught a glimpse of silver before a thunk echoed through the casket he sat upon and drew his attention away. He turned quickly again only to see Rip sitting cross legged on the casket with him, the most innocent smile on her face. He hadn't noticed the other two had gotten so close, let alone that they had even moved!

Grell frowned as he turned again and tried to tug his hair free to no avail. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he had the sudden creeping sensation that he was in some sort of danger, in an undoubtedly unwholesome sense. A ghosting touch to his chest made him stop tugging his hair to look askance at the white gloved hand currently caressing his nipple.

"Do you mind?" he asked dryly to the vampire currently out of his field of vision.

"Nein," Rip purred happily, her other hand wending it's way towards the coat button protecting his modesty.

"I'm a married woman!" Grell shrilled as he tried to keep his coat closed, the current angle of his neck making movement rather awkward. "You can't just-!"

"Oh?" Rip nearly growled, an obvious note of happiness rumbling through her voice. "Vatch me!"

Instantly, his hair was freed and he was shoved down onto his back on the coffin, the button of the coat torn off in the blink of an eye. Grell lay completely exposed, his arms forced to stay by his sides by the sleeves of the jacket that had been protecting him, if only just. To his further chagrin, his long luxurious hair was consequently pinned beneath his body and prevented him from sitting up. Rip giggled at his irritation as she knelt between his spread legs, her hand pressed down on his chest to allay his struggling. Grell watched as she began to pull her gloves off and unbutton her jacket, all the while a smug grin on her face.

Grell turned concerned eyes to his silver haired lover only to see him with elbows upon the casket, his face resting in his hands and a shimmering line of drool running down his chin.

"Darling? Why aren't you helping me?" Grell asked pleadingly as he wriggled in vain.

"Oh, I don't think you need my help. She seems to be doing a fine job all on her own," the elder grinned indulgently.

Grell looked up to the vampire pinning him, and the lust burning in her eyes told him that she was not going to let him go.

"You're going to let her-?"

"Well, yes," Undertaker chuckled matter-of-factly. "I'm going to 'let her' because you want it. Don't deny it."

Of course, Undertaker was right. Against his will, Grell's body was reacting. His nipples pebbled and his skin flushed as Rip exposed more of her own flesh. Off went her coat, the vest beneath, the tie, and she made quite the show of unbuttoning her shirt one-handed to reveal the surprisingly feminine scarlet lace bra she wore beneath it all. As each layer was peeled away, the dark hunger in her eyes grew stronger, her intent and desire more apparent than ever. She was beautiful, yes, but the deadly piercing gaze she wore was the same she held when she was locked onto her quarry.

Rip was a huntress through and through.

Her gaze made blood rush to certain parts of Grell's anatomy that were quite relevant to the vampire's interests. She grinned viciously at her captive and turned to Undertaker as she slid her belt free and popped the button on her trousers, showing a slight hint of more red lace beneath.

"Ja?" she asked happily.

The mortician merely nodded.

At the nod of approval, Rip let out a deep, dark rumble of satisfied laughter and inched her way up her captive's body. Grell again tried to shift out of her way, but she pressed down on his wrists, pinning his one area of free movement. Though, he stopped struggling when she finally settled by straddling him, his awakening erection nestled warmly between her thighs with only cloth between them. He hissed and tried to stop himself from grinding against that beauteous heat. She found herself chuckling at his struggles.

She dipped down to nuzzle his shoulder, planting butterfly kisses languorously on her way to the long column of his throat. She savored his slight shudders and buried her nose in the warm curve of his neck to enjoy the enticing scent of his denied arousal. Her tongue snaked out and licked along his pulse, warning him of imminent danger as she scraped her fangs oh-so-gently over the fluttering heartbeat. Grell couldn't withhold the mewl of fear and desire his voice betrayed at the ghosting touch. Smirking, she kissed her way up his throat to his awaiting lips, and he attempted to _deny_ her.

"Nein?," she purred dangerously. "You haf no choice in ze matter."

She suddenly grabbed him by the jaw none-too-gently and forced a kiss, bruising his lips as she bore down on him. She viciously squeezed until he opened his mouth to her and she ran her tongue over his sharp teeth with relish, forcing them both to experience the sweet tang of blood. Though he thrashed attempting to escape her advances, she could feel his throbbing shaft pulsing against her, as he was obviously trying not to roll his hips to meet her warmth.

With a vicious grind, the Huntress broke the bloody kiss to press herself as closely as possible to his warm body, the tops of her breasts gliding over his smooth chest as she slid her way back down his body. His now weeping hardness caressed her bare stomach and she chuckled in satisfaction. Pausing to run tongue and teeth over a pert nipple, she dragged nails down his sides. She knelt between his legs once more and kissed her way across his taut belly. Teasingly ran her soft cheek over his twitching erection. She gave him whisper soft breaths, tiny licks, drawing out every desperate whimper she possibly could. She finally wrapped fingers gently around him, and pressed the hot flesh against her lips.

"Damn it woman! Just do-_AHHHH~_!"

Grell's outburst was cut off when Rip indulgently took him into her mouth in one quick motion. She scraped her teeth along the underside of his hardness, swirled her tongue devilishly, and she gripped him as tightly as she could to give him the friction she knew he wanted.

Rolling him around in her mouth, she snaked her free hand down the front of her panties to press fingers against her wetness, enjoying the moist warmth even as she pleasured another. She reluctantly drew out her slick fingers and lightly traced them along his cleft to circle his entrance teasingly. She gave a throaty giggle as his panting grew more frenzied and he wiggled his hips, demanding that questing touch. The Huntress obliged and pressed in one finger up to the knuckle, increasing her grip on his incredibly hard shaft. She torturously began to pump her digit in and out of his body as slowly as possible, making him cry out with random hard thrusts every now and again. Soon adding another, he gave her more frantic moans and hisses, his entire body quivered and danced under her touch.

Knowing she had him in the palm of her hand, pun quite intended, she watched him thrash in his self made bonds. With a sly grin she popped him out of her mouth, and withdrew her fingers, showing that she refused to allow him release. He gasped and looked to her with a mixture of bewilderment and disappointment.

Rip made to stand, shimmying out of her pants as she went. Beneath, she wore a delicate scrap of red lace, tied at the hips, that accentuated her long pale legs. She stepped forward between her captive's still splayed legs and placed a dainty foot upon his chest to keep him down. Suddenly a scarred set of pale hands appeared upon her abdomen, caressing her exposed skin tenderly. The silver maned mad man materialized behind her, his face emerging from the shadows at her shoulder as he grinned down at Grell.

"Quite a sight, the both of you," he murmured into her inky hair. She grinned and leaned into the mortician's touch, quite enjoying the look of surprise on Grell's face. He was still clad in his hat, but for some reason, he wore nothing else save for his tight slacks…

Grell watched as Rip none-too-gently grabbed Undertaker's tiny silver braid and harshly yanked him in for a very deep, very vicious kiss. Rather than feeling pangs of jealousy as he expected, the redhead found the sight made his face flush and his heart beat faster in a very alluring sense. He was lost watching their tongues twine so lewdly, their bodies pressing tighter together, the playful and sensual nips they shared…He almost whimpered in protest when they separated once more, their attention once more turned to his discomfort.

Black taloned fingers wandered across the luscious curves of Huntress' body, leaving tiny red welts in their wake before they slowly disappeared behind her. There was a tiny snap, and the hands returned upon her shoulders, looping under the red straps of her lacy lingerie, to draw them down her freckle kissed arms, taking the barely concealing garment with them and revealing her delectable breasts to the cold room. She visibly shivered with a sigh as she leaned heavily back into the man behind her, coaxing him to continue his touches. His hands appeared at her sides once more and wended their way across her stomach before moving upwards and gently cupping her breasts, drawing pleased sounds from her throat as he began to knead the tender flesh. She turned her face to his and shared a kiss much more gentle than the first.

Rip grabbed the mortician's wrists and guided his hands down her body, leading them to her hips. Understanding her desire, he languorously pulled the ties keeping the scant garment on and let it fall, revealing her in all of her glory; A small glistening thatch of dark curls shone at the apex of her thighs. Yet, she did not release his wrists, she guided one hand towards her pulsing desire, and the other back to her breasts. Grell watched as she guided his lover's long sinewy fingers to glide into her wet folds, hums of satisfaction coming from both of them as the silver maned madman took up a deceptively gentle rhythm, both of them groaning darkly. Undertaker leaned down to nibble her ear as he explored her, putting on as much a show as possible for their captive.

Grell watched all of this in a combination of fascination and jealousy. He wasn't feeling particularly possessive of his man, which struck him as rather odd. The fact of the matter was he was jealous that they were both getting attention and he was not! Watching the things his lover did to Rip to make her sigh or squirm against him made the redhead wish he was in her position! And yet, the way the Huntress moved, the small desirous sounds she let loose made him want to be the one responsible for her pleasure…

"My dear Huntress, it appears that your quarry is weeping with joy!" Undertaker purred, leering at Grell's all too apparent (and indeed weeping) shaft. He kissed his way down her jaw to nibble her neck, making her shiver and purr against him. "Perhaps it is time-," A twirl of his skilled fingers and a harsh squeeze to her breast drew a deep shuddering moan from her, the redhead's voice echoing her sentiments. "-to claim your prey properly."

He pushed her forward with a hard grind to her backside, making sure she was quite aware that Grell wasn't the only one affected by their display. She grinned over her shoulder at the mortician and stepped forward to gracefully sink to her knees, straddling the still prone redhead, Her wetness and warmth hovered teasingly above his pulsing shaft, just as she had before, but now there was no cloth to impede them, and both of them were more than ready for action. His breath hastened, he quivered with desire and attempted to reach for her to draw that pleasure upon himself, but she remained just out of reach, a vulpine grin on her lips.

"Oh, so now you vant me, mein schatz?" she cooed, leaning forward to press down on his wrists again. Grell sneered at her and attempted to roll his hips upwards in response.

"If you're looking for a crude answer, you won't get one from a lady like me," he growled, restraining himself so he would not later feel the sting of the words he _really_ wanted to say. "I have my pri-_AH_!""

"Ahhh~," she gasped with him as she sat herself fully upon him, his hardness nestling perfectly between her slick folds, drawing a sharp breath from both of them. "Hmm?" she purred, giving a delicious roll of her hips.

Grell's back arched at the contact, a deep moan tumbling from his throat. She ground against him again, amused by his reactions. Then quite suddenly, she released his wrists as she raised herself upon her knees, wrapped fingers around his hardness and guided him to her entrance. She dropped all of her weight in one sharp movement as she impaled herself upon him, allowing the shudder of deep pleasure that followed to rock her body against his. But before he could fully rationalize what had just happened, she moved. She rocked her hips, bucking against him, driving him fast and deep into her warm pulsing body. The Huntress moaned without abandon as she rode him, her expressive face a grimace of pleasure. Oh, how he wanted to dig his fingers into those hips! He tried to thrust upwards, to drive himself deeper into that wonderful tight wet heat, but the angle was wrong and his heels kept slipping off the coffin! He was becoming frenzied with desire as waves of pleasure swept over him with every move she made, every moan she let loose…

The vampire rode him hard and fast, taking her pleasure as she wanted it, loving the feeling of him so hard and so deep within her, pushing her towards guaranteed ecstasy… and suddenly Grell's shoulders were pushed up and forward by black taloned hands, his hair and coat were pulled from beneath him, and he was finally free! With an animalistic growl, Grell took the chance as it was presented and sat up to lunge at the woman so brutally riding him. He gripped the backs of her knees and tumbled her backwards, pinning her beneath him with a snarl of victory. He wasted no time and rammed himself into her at a frenzied pace, screams of rapture pealing from her throat, completely unfazed that her position of power had been so suddenly usurped.

Undertaker, who had so graciously released Grell to properly participate in their current activities, quite relished the sight of his normally so submissive lover take charge. He salivated watching as the redhead took on a mask of feral desire, thrusting into the screaming vampire mercilessly, the wet erotic sounds of their joining echoed through the room. He watched as Grell nipped at her neck and lips, deep growl after deep growl rumbling from his delicate throat, reminding him of that homicidal streak he had first fallen in love with...Driven by his own building desire, and knowing full well what could only make this a better experience for everyone, he moved in behind Grell, quite glad that Rip had been so kind as to prepare the redhead for him. The mortician slid his hands along Grell's hips, making him aware of his presence, and planted soft kisses at the base of his spine. Grell, of course, ignored him, too enraptured was he in Rip…her pliant body, her hot slick skin, her cries of pleasure as he dove into her velvet heat! Undertaker pressed in close as he unfastened his trousers, letting his erection spring free to grind against Grell's presented backside. Grell growled at him threateningly, a slight hitch in his rolling hips. Undertaker grinned and reached around the lust addled redhead to grip the Huntress' thighs and effectively sandwich Grell between them.

"I have been wanting to slip into something more comfortable for quite the while now," he hummed, plunging into Grell's body in one hard thrust. The younger reaper shook under his touch, but Undertaker did not give him any time to adjust. He pushed as deep as he could go, pulling Rip's thighs as tight as possible against them both, all three of them moaning in unison. He rolled his hips against Grell, savoring the warmth and trembling tightness surrounding him.

"Mein gott," the vampire snarled, her voice breathy. "Somvone **MOVE**!"

Undertaker happily obliged as he pulled out and plunged back into Grell's body roughly, drawing a deep moan of pleasure from the redhead, and a high whimpering cry from the Huntress. He did it again, and Grell assisted this time with a lengthy thrust into the woman below him, making her shake and shudder beneath him. And so began their rhythm…The mortician would ram into Grell as hard as possible, and Grell would drive himself deep into Rip as she rolled her hips up to meet him with Undertaker pulling at her thighs to keep them all tight together. All three of them panted and sighed with each motion, reveling in the delicious friction a coupling only as unique as this could make. Grell shuddered and moaned as the tightness in his lower belly warned him he was far too close. Rip screamed her satisfaction as the tingling tremors of smaller orgasms brought her closer and closer to her glorious climax. Undertaker merely smiled as he watched the other two succumb to their own pleasures and doubled his efforts, making each of his lovers gasp in surprise. He pounded into the bodies below him, driving the breath from them as he did, their cries becoming more desperate and high pitched as his body began to twitch with the need to release!

"G-Grell! GRELL!" Rip screamed as she was finally pushed over the edge, her orgasm blinding her and curling her toes, sending spasms of ecstasy through her body! Grell yelled as she tightened mercilessly around him and sank his teeth into her shoulder with the rocking twinges of his own climax, shooting his seed deep within her…Undertaker thrust into the shuddering redhead a few more times, savoring the trembling tightness before spilling his own seed with a very satisfied sigh.

They all let the waves of gratification wash over them gladly as they collapsed into a panting heap of tangled limbs and sweat on top of the casket. Grell released Rip's shoulder from his jaws and Undertaker pressed forward to place gentle kisses along the wound his lover had made as the Huntress lazily ran her hands over them both. They all lay there for a moment, basking in the aftermath of their satisfaction and each other's presence.

However the casket below gave an ominous creak and all three shared a look of surprise before it suddenly collapsed beneath them, tumbling the trio to the ground and spilling them onto the dusty floor.

"Well, I'd say that was quite the successful romp," Undertaker chuckled shaking off the dust and patting a thigh of each of his lovers. "Care to break in another one?" he grinned at both of them.

Grell and Rip looked to each other and shared a gaze before they turned to him at the same moment and each of them pressed down on a shoulder of his, pinning him to the floor.

"It's your turn," they murmured in unison, twin maniacal smiles curling their lips as they pressed in close.

Undertaker could not deny the trepidation and amusement felt as they moved over him. He knew that look…and he knew just what was imminent…

He drooled in anticipation.

*~End~*

*You're not supposed to get the joke. It's gibberish. It's stolen from Monty Python as the world's deadliest albeit funniest joke (which is supposed to be fatal, but Undertaker's already dead, so it doesn't matter. NYEH!) I DO NOT OWN SAID JOKE NOR DO I OWN MONTY PYTHON!

**mein rote tod = "my red death". I don't speak German so I don't know if it's accurate, but you get the idea.


End file.
